An Egyptian Mummy in America
by skabs
Summary: rated for gore- possibley- Years after the 2nd Mummy, Alex is hired to take a teaching position in the States. But lo and behold, the new teaching position comes with a golden book and smart mouth assistant
1. Default Chapter

standard disclaimer- i own no characters except those i've created. please review and let me know if i've made any mistakes, or if i should even keep writing this one!

* * *

Alex O'Connell stood at the exit ramp of the ocean liner and scanned the waiting crowd with tired blue eyes. He yawned hugely as he hiked his worn leather bag over a broad shoulder and regretted the absence of the familiar weights of his revolvers from their accustomed place under his jacket. He was looking, apparently, for a short blond with a studious mind that would make any professor of archaeology proud, at least according to the letter his mothers friend had sent. Admittedly it wasn't much of a description to go on, but Alex figured that once the student appeared he'd be able to recognize Alex from the fact that he stood a head above anyone else in the crowd.

As Alex looked over the other travelers and their waiting relatives he thought over the concept of finally setting down and organizing his copious amounts of notes on ancient Egypt findings into papers that would wow the current theorists. He wondered what it would be like to teach. He'd never done so before, but his mothers old classmate had been desperate for anyone with recent experience, and somehow Evie O'Connell, his dear mother, had talked him into it.

"Ohhh! I'm sooo late!" a frantic voice rose about the gathered crowd, and Alex watched in amusement as a young girl skid on red boots, colliding violently with a rotund mans bulging stomach. "I'm sorry!" she yelped, jumping back so her knee length black skirt fluttered appealingly around smooth legs. In all his years of roaming the world Alex hadn't found a pair of legs that could match his mothers, but the girl who was nervously scanning the departing passengers came close. Her blond hair swung around her head and caught the sun, skipping gold highlights across her rosy cheeks. She tugged nervously at the hem of her red vest and bit her lower lip as she met his pale eyes with her own emerald.

Alex couldn't look away as she smiled in relief and started toward him. He lost sight of her momentarily as she squeezed between passengers who towered over her own diminutive form, but he found her again as she pushed two men aside to reach him.

"Alex O'Connell I presume?" she held out a hand to shake and gripped his with a delicate but firm shake.

"Yes." Alex returned the shake in kind and smiled down charmingly. "Can I help you? I'm waiting for someone, but I can certainly try and find your parents or something before he gets here." Alex released her hand as she yanked it back.

"I knew you couldn't take me seriously." She muttered venomously. "Men." She threw her hands in the air, soft black sleeves fluttered in the wind.

"Excuse me?" Alex asked, confused.

The girl placed her hands on her hips and watched him with defiant eyes, daring him to contradict her. "I am Clarke Parkesburg. I am Professor Ramie's aide. He sent me here to pick you up. Now will you come with me or what?"

* * *

"Can I apologize or will you just bite my head off?" Alex asked as she negotiated the traffic with a skill that left him almost breathless as his heart threatened to pound right out of his chest. The tiny car she drove weaved in and out of traffic like a cat, and she seemed to have the same sixth sense that had felines dodging out of the way of large feet about to step on tails as she cut in between a semi truck and a large family sedan.

"Go ahead and apologize, I have a feeling that you're going to be doing a lot of it. Its prudent to get them out of the way as they come."

"I'm not a complete jerk you know." Alex protested, "Anyone could have taken you for a child with they way you barreled through the crowd with no manners t'all!"

"Nice apology." She quirked an eyebrow as she stopped at a red light, then smirked as she made a right turn from a left lane, cutting off a man in a large truck with a happy wave.

"I apologize for mistaking you for a child." He managed with stiff British formality. "Though, with the way you drive, I have a feeling I hit closer to the mark than you think."

"Stuck up Brit." She muttered as she shrieked to a halt in front of a dignified old building, columns of plaster shot into the sky, seeming to connect with the roof through chance, as if they couldn't be bothered to reach higher to inconvenience themselves. Alex had always loved the musty dampness and old purity of the pyramids as they ranged themselves in Egypt, but buildings like the one in front of him where just as prideful in his mind. The tiny kraut of a vehicle looked almost ridiculous parked in front of the museums dignity. The tiny woman who jumped out of it, however, would have seemed even more out of place if she hadn't grabbed a white lab coat from where it was perched on the drivers seat, then proceeded to haul it over her shoulders before bundling her hair into a tidy bun behind her head. "Coming or not?" she asked icily as she started up the stairs. With a smile and a nod Alex stuck his hands in his jacket pocket.

"Lead on Macduff." When she turned to glare he only chuckled and shrugged. "Dry British humor."

"Right." She turned back around to continue up the stairs, "Next time," she muttered, "Warn me."

The Museum was cold, but with the hint of ages and majesty that tended to take people around and through, just to catch a glimpse of the treasures of the past that might be around the next corner. It was a museum, and Alex felt very much at home as Clarke walked him through the exhibits and toward the offices in the restricted area behind them. She had to show an id card, which she wore clipped to her jacket pocket, before the guard in the black suit would let them through. The stalwart man nodded, glared at Alex, but let them both pass.

"That was Jared, he'll remember you, but the next time you pass you need one of these." She waved the card, "Or he won't let you through, doesn't matter who you are."

"Nice to know the security around here is top notch."

"It has to be. We get many different exhibits on loan from countries all around the world. In fact..." she glanced back, pausing in her quick stride to gesture at a long pair of doors, "Behind there we just got a shipment from Egypt, very special and hush, hush. The Professor didn't want to mess with it until you got here. He thinks you'll like a lot of it."

"Yes, I think my mother mentioned something of it." Alex stared at the doors as she began to walk again, wondering if anything behind them would be new to him.

"Well, come on." Clarke sighed impatiently when she realized he wasn't behind her.

"I apologize again my lady." Alex bowed slightly cheeky, and set off at his own pace. He caught up with her in a few strides and adjusted so he wouldn't overtake her.

"He's right in here..." she opened a door and paused, blinking as the sight overtook her other senses. "Professor?" she breathed out before backing out quickly, bumping into Alex's solid chest. She shook as she turned to bury her face in his shoulder and screamed.

Alex had seen death before, but rarely had the blood been so abundant. It dripped from the walls, the ceiling, ran down the windows tinting everything in pink with the sun streaming through the glass. Papers stuck to every surface, stained to uselessness with red. He was sitting behind his desk, his chest cavity ripped into, several ribs poked into vital organs and his neck was broken, leaving his head dangling behind him like a rag dolls. One arm was dangling from the shoulder, again, broken like a toy, but the other arm...

Alex held Clarke's head to his shoulder as Jared ran, his shiny black shoes echoing down the dim hallway. He skid to a halt beside Alex, drew a pistol in an easy movement that suddenly made Alex miss his father, and shook as he took in the sight of the Professors other arm, lying on the floor just inside the door, his hand open in a claw, as if reaching for the door.

* * *

They didn't enter the room. There was nothing they could do but call the police. So they sat there, in the hallway on a bench Jared had confiscated from the showing rooms as the Cops did their jobs and questioned them carefully. They treated Clarke like she was glass, as if a hint of hardness would crack her. She had pushed Alex away early, insisting she was not going to be hysterical. But he watched her carefully as she told the police that yes, she had seen the Professor, just that morning.

"He looked up from his papers and laughed. He told me he had a special job for me to do, then strung me along with hints until he admitted that it was just a trip to the harbor."

"The harbor?" The kind cop had a mustache that was full and brown, he seemed to think it made up for the lack of hair on his head as he scratched the corner of his lip with the cap of his pen.

"Yes. He found an Archeologist to teach his Egypt class this fall. Alex O'Connell." She gestured to Alex who had been listening carefully, determined to glean as much information out of the police talking quietly outside the door. He nodded to acknowledge the connection, but didn't bother with an answer as the coroner wheeled a white draped cart from the office. Clarke took a gulping breath and clenched her eyes shut, forcing the tears away. She tried to tug away as Alex placed his hands on her shoulders to pivot her into a hug. But after the initial resistance she collapsed, letting his arms band around her, for his comfort as much as her own. She clenched his shirt and let the tears fall.

"Officer?"

"O'Malley." He supplied, his expression grim as he watched the coroner walk steadily down the long marbled hall with his body.

"Could we do this later perhaps?" Alex asked coldly as Clarke sobbed into his shirt.

O'Malley nodded carefully as he sighed. After 21 years of homicide he knew that what one person could do to another was gruesome, but even he had flinched at his first look into the blood soaked room. The girl was on her last rope, and the man holding her looked very close to violence himself. "Take her on home. We'd appreciate a talk tomorrow afternoon if you don't mind stopping by the station. Say four?"

"We'll be there." Alex agreed after picking her up and, with Clarke in the cradle of his arms, starting down the hall.

"Take care of her." O'Malley gestured with his pen, and smirked a bit at Alex's scoff.

"I'm after pouring her into a trank and a bed. But she'll be coherent tomorrow."

"If you don't mind me saying, you seem to be taking this in stride."

"I work with dead men everyday Detective."

"But they've been dead a while." He commented making a little note in his book.

"Depends on the man." And with that last statement Alex nodded to Jared, who watched after them both with worried eyes, and exited down the same hall the Professor had been taken down. He's fished the keys from her jacket pocket and placed her in the orange car before she could protest as he slipped behind the wheel, adjusting the seat as he was scrunched up to the steering column itself.

"You don't drive my..."

"You're not getting a choice. Where am I taking you?" he shot out as he pressed the automatic locks and strung the seatbelt over her shoulders.

"Home." She sighed and leaned her head back against the headrest.

"And where's that at?"

"Turn left at the corner, I'll guide you from there."

* * *

Alex groaned and turned away as a bright light shone in his eyes.

"Go away!" he shouted and flailed his arm in the general direction of the assailant, forgetting, for a moment, that he had no room to flail. He grunted as he rolled off the couch and found himself staring at a red shag carpet.

"Time to wake your lazy butt up." a quiet voice had him pushing himself off the floor to face the small girl framed by an open window.

Her eyes were red from crying, her cheeks pale, her hands still trembled slightly as she smoothed her black robe and crossed her arms.

"Have a heart," Alex climbed back on the couch and turned his back to the window, and the girl, "And go away."

"I need my keys."

"Well, you're not getting them." He replied. "Now go back to sleep, or read a book, take a shower you look like shit."

"I look like shit?" she studied the man who had carried her up to her apartment and dumped her into bed. He'd ordered her to change, going through her drawers until he found a long sleep shirt and flung it at her. He stomped out, threatening that if she hadn't changed for bed by the time he came back, he'd do it for her. So while she thought of interesting tortures to lay on his lap, she changed and waited for his return. He came back an hour later, mumbling about Americans pharmacies and their rude pharmacists. He stormed right in, pinched her nose, popped a pill in her mouth and clamped it shut so she had no hope of spitting the tranquilizer out. He did it several times, then made her chug a glass of water to wash it all down after the fact. She swallowed in pure defense, and attacked his arms with her nails. Half an hour later, too numbed down by medication, she fell asleep.

When she woke she felt as if she'd been coshed over the head with something very heavy. She got to her feet carefully and groaned as she pulled a robe on over her shirt. Then she grinned as she spotted the legs poking out over the arms of her couch. He slept in his pants, the top button undone, and had stripped to an undershirt, which meant the claw marks on his muscled forearms stood out in sharp relief against his tan.

"Serves you right." She muttered and flung open the curtains.

"Yes, you look like shit." He repeated, not in a very good mood. He felt like he'd just gotten to sleep on this thing she laughingly called a couch. He was a good two feet too tall to lie on it comfortably, but he wasn't going to leave a heavily medicated girl alone in the night. He'd gotten up every hour, and checked on her. She cried in her sleep.

She watched with some amusement as he curled his legs up, trying to fit himself to the couch. She knelt down so that her mouth was to his ear and whispered, "You do know that I have a guest room?"

The silence was so deep Clarke figured she could have shouted a curse to the gods and the silence would smother it. That is, until Alex started to laugh, and in laughing he turned over, looked at her, and began to cry.

"I hate you." He managed through the tired tears.

"Well I hate you back." Clarke sniffed, "I'm going to take a shower. Apparently, I look like shit."


	2. the book

The hall was frigid as Clarke led him to the doorway. Huge double doors swung inward as she unlocked and pushed them. They both kept their eyes forward, refusing to look down the hall to the door still marked off with neon yellow police tape.

"So our new Egyptian Exhibit was being held until you could put in your two cents. I hope you'll find something in here you'd like to pontificate on." Clarke stepped into the room, her boot heels clicked and echoed off the marbled floor and high ceiling. Large hanging chandeliers let light to the artifacts carefully set on a long wooden table.

"Seems like everything set up already." Alex pushed her carefully to the table, and turned to shut the door behind them.

"Yes, we wanted to make sure everything was here right away. You should have seen the glow on the Professors face when he picked this up out of the crate." He turned to watch as she lifted a piece of solid gold from the tabletop. The reflecting glare from the lights off the gold bathed her face gently giving her a statuesque look before the import of the item penetrated his mind.

"Holy Crap!" he stepped forward, intending to rip the book from her grasp, but she held it away.

"What?"

"Do you have any idea what that it?" Alex could feel a cold sweat pop out from his back.

"The book of Amun-Ra." She smirked, "Any child should know that."

"You haven't read from it?"

"Well…"

"No, of course not." Alex remembered, and sighed heavily as he took the book from her.

"You need a key." He nodded when she commented.

"Yes, you need a key." He agreed, running his palm over the lock set firmly in the golden cover. And the only key he knew of, rested calmly in his mothers safe, an ocean away.

"I think this puzzle box may have something to do with it, maybe, possibly." Alex swore in his mind, "Of course, that's just conjecture."

"Of course." He smiled indulgently as he stopped himself from just plucking it out of her hand. He placed the book carefully down and held out his hand. "May I?"

"Here." Clarke set it in his palm and turned back to the table.

Five sides, dark metal, the eye of Ra and several hieroglyphs later Alex concluded that just touching two of the symbols on opposite sides…

"Crap."

"What?" Alex twirled around to look at the table, the other artifacts just looked like typical tomb treasure, the puzzle box he slipped into his jacket pocket when she turned her attention back to the table was something else all together.

* * *

"Da, I'm telling you… No dad, they haven't opened it yet." Alex sighed as he leaned against the glass. He'd slipped out of the Museum saying that he was hungry. In fact he stopped at the hot dog vender at the corner to ask directions to the nearest public phone and picked up one with everything on it. He fiddled with the box as he swallowed the last bite. "Da, where is mum?" The top flipped open as he pressed and twisted, a star shape emerged from the top. "No Da, I'm serious. You know, this is the kind of thing the Meiji should be handling, how the hell was the book discovered again, much less let out of the country?"

"Who are the Meiji?"

"Da, you know…" Alex turned around only to have the key snatched from his hands and a tiny palm pushed against his chest. "Da, I'll have to get back to you."

"Who are you talking to?" Clarke grabbed the phone and glared as Alex went to take it back. "Don't start!" she placed the phone to her ear and smacked Alex's hand away.

"Who is this?" She demanded.

An ocean away Rick smiled and leaned back in his chair. Sounds like the girls a toughie. "This is Rick O'Connell."

"And could you tell me _Mr._ O'Connell," she growled, "Why your son chose to steal an object from my Museum?"

"Ma'am I can only tell you that what you hold in your possession is very dangerous and better sent back to Egypt before something bad happens."

"It's just a book! What harm ever came from reading a book?" She paused as the coughing laugh from the telephone and the one coming from the man squished in the telephone booth with her each exploded.

"I'll tell you a story sometime." Alex took the phone from her hand and said goodbye to his father, "I'll fix it dad. Just tell mum to stand by, and find out how this stuff got shipped." He nodded as Rick imparted some last minute warnings, "I'll be careful. Tell Mum I love her… Yeah, you too, bye."

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Clarke demanded as she flung open the glass door.

"Protecting the world maybe?" Alex muttered as he followed her into open air.

"What?"

"Nothing. Look, you don't have to believe me, you just have to send the book and the key back to Egypt. They can't stay here. Its dangerous."

"And this is the key? How did you open it?" she looked down at the open box and traced her finger along the jagged edges of the star.

"It doesn't matter." He tried to grab it back, but only succeeded in taking the arm of her jacket as she shifted away. He tugged her toward him and grabbed her chin with his other hand. He forced her to look up into his eyes. "This is magic best left buried."

"Magic?" she scoffed, "It's a book."

"And who says a book can't be magic?" Alex softened his grip on her arm, and brought his hands to her shoulders. "Until we settle this I need to ask for your word." She still glared defiantly into his eyes, and saw a seriousness she hadn't expected. He seemed tired as he blinked and lowered his forehead to rest on hers.

"My word on what?" Clarke hissed.

"You won't mention this to anyone else, and you won't try to read from the book." He held her head where it was as she tried to jerk away. "Promise me."

His hands where firm, his breath was warm as it fluttered against her lips. He was serious, she realized, as his breath shook out. He was worried, nervous about that book.

"I didn't realize you were superstitious."

"Cautious." He corrected.

"Fine."

"Fine what?"

"I won't tell anyone about the book of the dead, and I won't try to read from it." She let her breath out as he released her.

"Good." Alex nodded and grabbed the key before she could protest. "Good." He pressed two symbols gently, and twisted, then handed the box back to her. "Now lets go, you need to give the cops their statement."

He turned away and started toward the car.

She paused for just one more second, looked down and pressed the sides of the box carefully. A slight give of the metal greeted her smiled.

"I won't try, Alex…" she tucked the box into her jacket pocket and smiled, "I'll succeed."


	3. comfort

The Mummy world does not belong to this insignificant speck of the universe.

* * *

O'Malley got up from his seat to shake Alex and Clarkes hands, gestured toward tow chairs in front of his desk and offered coffee.

"No thank you, I think we'd each prefer to get this over with Detective." Alex took Clarke's hand in his, O'Malley found it telling that she snatched it away quickly. For some reason the young blond was pissed at the boy.

"If you could begin with your questions, I'll do my best to answer them." Clarke folded her hands in her lap and sat straight. Her eyes where direct, the green unclouded by the previous days shock.

"It looks like you've pulled yourself together," O'Malley acknowledged as he fished the folder from the others piled neatly to one side of his desk. He plucked out a pencil from the tin can holder his seven year old son had made out of spaghetti and edible paste, and opened the file to the first page. "Just take this easy, and stop when you need to. Now, was there any indication the Professor made? Did he seem uneasy or nervous?"

"He was exited about the current shipment from Egypt." Clarke smiled, "nothing was quite important enough to pierce his love of new artifacts. In fact, I believe that was why his wife left him five years ago."

"Has anyone been spending more time with him lately, or expressed interest in him that was apart from the norm?"

"No one approached me, but that's normal. Even when students are supposed to ask me things they usually don't bother. The Proffesor had an open door policy and invited students to question him directly. In fact, many times I had arrived in the morning to find several students had taken residency on my office couch, exhausted from his advice. I'd then find him pouring over some dusty tome, trying to find answers…" Clarke looked down at her entangled fingers, "I really don't know of anyone who would want to hurt him. He had to be the most patient and loving man I've ever known."

"He raised you, correct?"

"Yes. When my parents died Louis took me in. I was ten at the time."

"Would he tell you if anything threatened him?"

"I would hope so, but…" Clarke shook her head and looked up tears danced in her eyes, "He wouldn't want to worry me."

* * *

The day was clear, the sky brightly blue as they left the station. Alex had his hand on her elbow, worried that she might just collapse in a puddle of tears, but she had held herself together, though her shoulders where shaking.

"Look, I know you don't like me much right now…" Alex started, looked up at the cloudless sky and sighed, "Just don't hit me for this." He firmed his grip and spun her around, tucked her head under his chin and banded his arms around her torso. After a few seconds her shoulders dropped and the tears began to flow.

"Why would anyone do that to him?" she cried, "he was a funny, caring, stupidly optimistic man! He didn't deserve that!"

"No one deserves that." Alex agreed.

"Why Alex?"

"I don't know." He smoothed his hand up her back, and down, stroking like he would a kitten, she was so small in his arms. Immediately, stupidly he thought, his instinct was to wrap a blanket around her and hide her away from the world. "If I asked you to take a break, to go away for a little while, would you?" She pushed out of his arms defiantly, glared at him.

"Of course not!" she spat out, "I have work to do! I have artifacts to catalogue and a class to tutor. He would not condone my lazing about!"

"Gods above and below, you are stubborn." He leaned down to give her a reassuring kiss on the cheek, and blinked when his own muscles tightened. She bit her lower lip and scoffed.

"You're such a guy."

"What is that supposed to mean?" frozen on the sidewalk outside of a police station they just stared at each other before she could respond. She almost melted into his pale blue eyes.

"I've, well…" she took a breath and smiled, "I've noticed that the desire to protect the female is deep-seated and common in the male of the species."

"You think you're funny."

"I think you're funny… looking."

"You know what else is common in the male of the species?" Alex ignored the taunt, and told himself to let go, but only found himself drawing her closer. She gasped as he lifted her to her toes and his leaned down closer to her own.

"No, tell me." Clarke dared.

* * *

O'Malley watched from his window at the tall Brit swooped down and planted a kiss on the diminutive blond that had frustrated passion written all over it. He had begun to watch just to make sure she got to the car safely, and found himself unable to turn away as Alex supported her. The boy knew something, of that he was sure, O'Malley played hunches like he bluffed with cards, often and to the best advantage. Alex wasn't going to tell him anything unless O'Malley directly confronted him, and the time for that had not been with the girl in his office, shaking like a leaf.

* * *

She was drowning, sure of it, and not caring. His lips were warm against hers, his tongue darted out to taste hers and his teeth nipped along her lower lip as she moaned softly. His arms held her close, her fingers tangled in his hair, and they stared at each other through wide open eyes. A car door slammed, a hot dog vender was yelling on the corner, the wind swept down the street throwing trash and leaves every which way. Alex stood as if her were cemented down, the sounds where mere echoes in his ears. He was lost in her.

"Sir?"

His arms loosed their grip, his hands traveled down her rib cage to rest on her hips.

"Excuse me, Sir?"

Her fingers caught in the leather of his jacket and pulled him more firmly toward her.

"Sir!"

"WHAT?" Alex tore himself away as the skinny man to his left tugged on his sleeve. His hair was black and wavy to his shoulders, his khaki pants and jacket hung loosely on his slight frame. The tattoos adorning his cheeks where Egyptian and familiar.

"I was instructed to find you Master Alex." His English was tainted faintly with the deep tonal language of the Meiji, and Alex took a deep breath as he snagged Clarke's hand and began walking toward her car.

"And you would be…?"

"Son of Ardeth, I am Mali." He bowed his head, "My father instructed me to find you and to stay by your side until the book could be placed back into protection."

"What?" Clarke managed to ask as Alex shoved her in the backseat of her own car.

"I am…"

"She got that part." Alex interrupted. "Look, Clarke, the book of Amun-Ra, the book of the dead, is not supposed to leave Egypt. Its dangerous."

"You keep saying that."

"Well, it bears repeating."

"Alex, you can't leave me in the dark forever!"

"I can try." He muttered as he started the car. Mali got in the passenger seat and smiled back at Clarke.

"Don't worry my lady, we will take very good care of it."

"Its part of MY exhibit!" Clarke yelled.

"But ma'am it was not in your invoices, was it not?" Mali countered.

"How would you know?"

"Because I know much."

"How did Professor Gintley react when he pulled it out?" Alex wondered.

"He was nervous. He started muttering about getting someone to teach an Egypt class right away. He muttered a lot about your mother and a curse. But that was just silly superstition. He calmed down after he called your mother and she assured him you'd be more than happy to help out."

"Ok, so he knew that my family has been the only one to subdue the mummys curse before, so he called the only ones who could contain it." Alex muttered, "Makes perfect sense… I just wish mum had warned me about this."

"Warned you about what?" Clarke demanded as he parked in front of the Museum.

Alex grabbed her hand and pulled her from the car. "I will tell you this, and you will believe me, The last time I saw that book it was because I was reading from it, desperately hoping that I would be good enough, fast enough, smart enough, to bring my mother back to life." He shushed her as her mouth opened to ask, "That book brings nothing but pain and death and trouble, it is going back to the people who are supposed to look after it, and if they're smart, they'll find a way to destroy it this time."


	4. the start

The dark haired man stood at the desk wrapping the golden book in many layers of cloth that seemed to suddenly appear from his pocket. As he wrapped he muttered in a tonal language that Clarke had sworn she'd heard before, but most of her attention was being held by the tall irritating man in front of her.

"He's taking the book back to where it rightfully belongs, and you can't stop him."

"Its part of MY exhibit." Clarke frowned.

"But it wasn't accounted for." Alex pointed out. That was the first thing she had rechecked after getting back to the museum. And they were right. The golden book was not listed on her invoices.

"I can't believe you're so superstitious about this! Alex!" She winced as she recognized the whine in her own voice. She did not whine, she was firmly set against it.

"I am only taking a sensible precaution." he rubbed his wrist gently, remembering the time a heavy golden bracelet sat there, sapping his strength as he ran for the temple before the sun could get to it first…

"You're not taking this!" Clarke snapped the key from the table and held it over and behind her head. Alex rolled his eyes and sighed. The key didn't matter, it was useless by itself. Besides, if he really wanted it all he would have to do is lean forward and pluck it from her hand. He was much taller than her. As if realizing that her stance was a tad idiotic, she stuffed it into her pocket instead. Alex took a second to appreciate the fact that the maneuver wouldn't have held him any longer than holding over her head had.

"Fine. Keep the damn thing." he whirled on his heel, as if to check on Mali's progress.

"You lied."

"What?" he turned back at the challenge. Her eyes glinted in the harsh conservatory lights.

"The gold book doesn't bring people to life." Clarke shrugged, "you said you brought your mother back to life using the golden book."

"You're right." Alex winced as he recalled the inky black of the covered book he'd read. Clarke smiled smugly.

"See. Told you I knew what I was talking about."

"I'm sorry, I got a little anxious. I jumped to conclusions and remembered facts incorrectly." Alex shrugged, like his father he had an easy way of dealing with sarcastic, self-righteous, know-it-all women. He simply picked her up, threw her over his shoulder and carted her out of the room. He didn't know how much Mali knew, and he wasn't willing to trust him just then on only his own word that he was related to his fathers friend. It was true that they hadn't seen each other in a while, but he would think he would merit the friendship to know when his son had passed the trials every Medji took to become part of the sacred group. Ardeth and Rick O'Connell loved to one-up each other, even if only through their children.

"Put me down this instant!" she screamed as he dumped her into a couch in her office. She blinked and looked up at him with disapproval written clearly on her face.

"It was the black book I used to bring my mother back. I had forgotten that in the rush to explain to you how important it is to keep those books in the right hands. Hands meant to protect it, not use it."

"Right. Using it would be reading it. And reading is a harmless past time Alex…" she trailed off as Alex's eyes shifted to the doorway. It creaked open by itself, a gentle breeze came from the closed in hallway. "Alex…"

"Please don't tell me…" Alex shifted Clarke so that she was standing behind him, and for once she kept her mouth shut as she gripped his leather jacket tightly. The breeze had brought a scent she'd recognized from the other day. Blood and decay. "I really should have called my father back." Alex muttered suddenly realizing that if what he thought was happening really was, then the Egyptian wing of a Museum was probably not the best place to be in.

"Why? What has he to do with any of this?" Clarke followed Alex slowly as he stalked toward the open door, and the faint scuffling sound that echoed down the marble hallway.

"Well, I would know for sure who was sent to protect the book. I'm such a moron I let you distract me from its protection once someone more qualified showed up. I shouldn't have done that." He held a hand out to keep her in the room as she peaked his head out the doorway. He swore violently under his breath and once again wished his father would show up, guns blazing.

The thought held him for about a second, then he turned back into the office and shoved Clarke in front of him. Not saying a word he shoved her under her own desk, ignoring her protests. She swore creatively, he could give her that much credit.

"I don't think my head would fit up there, but after this is over you're welcome to try." He opened the drawers of her desk and wondered how anyone who was so irritating could be so messy. "Don't you have a lighter, or a dagger, or…" he flung his head around looking for anything. Then kicked himself mentally as he realized that she had several weapons mounted to the walls in a creative, yet functional manner. He ignored her protests as he ripped a long, curved sword from its brackets.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Trust me. They're slow right now, but once they catch sight of us, they'll get faster." He ripped a spear from its holder and shoved it into her hands. "Do you know how to fight?"

"Yes." Alex nodded, trusting that she could take care of herself until she proved otherwise. He would never think to contradict her simple statement just because she was a tiny girl… his mother would kill him.

"Then get ready." the scuffling sound had gotten louder in the interval, "because we need to get out of here, go back to the display room, grab the book and Mali," he was working under the hopeful assumption that the boy had nothing to do with the sudden rising, but was not blinded by the fact that it could be the other way around. "And hopefully we can do something to stop it early this time."


	5. broken doors and phone calls

"Dragging you through a museum filled with the living dead is not my idea of fun." Alex hissed as he tugged Clarke's wrist again. For the fifth time she had tried to twist away and he was not letting go until he had successfully gotten them back to the book. And he was only going to do that because he needed a hand for the book and a hand for his sword.

"Its not? Gosh, then what do you do for entertainment? Kidnap party girls instead of student advisors?" Clarke glared at him. "I don't believe in mummies walking around and killing people." she bumped into his shoulder as he stopped abruptly.

"Then what's that?" he nodded his head in the direction of a slow moving corpse at the end of the adjacent hall. He shoved her ahead of him and passed by without it turning around. He'd had to decapitate the ones in the office before they would stop moving, and Clarke was by no means convinced that he wasn't playing some sort of elaborate joke on her.

"Somebody dressed up like a mummy." she griped as he pulled her along. Once again she bounced off his shoulder when he stopped. "Stop doing that!" she punched his shoulder with the hand that was still holding the spear he'd handed her. The tip had broken off when he pushed her to the floor. She hadn't attacked the thing coming for her because she was sure it was just a joke… until she looked up and watched Alex swinging the ancient sword like an expert, methodically slicing off limbs, then finally the head.

"People dressed up… YOU CAN SEE THROUGH THEM!"

The door into the examination room blew off itshinges as Alex threw his hands into the air. Mali sailed through the air and bounced off the wall opposite the drunkenly hanging doors. A loud crack proved that, if not every bone, a good amount of them were broken. Mali groaned, blinked open his eyes and smirked. What he said Clarke could not understand, but Alex did. He grabbed Clarke's hand again and turned back the other way.

"Where are we going?"

"We can't stop him yet, we need to leave and figure out what all this means before he can kill us!"

"What did he say?" Clarke yelled in an effort to overcome Alex's sudden grim statement.

Alex stopped on the stairs outside the museum and looked back. Clarke followed his gaze. Every window in the building was glowing with an eerie red light.

"Death is just the beginning."

* * *

"I know that was on the tomb mother! You've told me that!" 

"Alex don't yell at your mother."

"Will you be quiet! Not you mom… this annoying pipsqueak of an assistant your friend had."

"I'll show you pipsqueak!" Clarke launched herself from her sofa and found his fist suddenly curled in the front of her shirt, his longer, muscular arm keeping her at bay.

"Yes, Clarke is a girl… stop laughing its not that funny…. Five kids, two dogs, country wedding and no you're not invited…. Dad can come though…" he smirked then suddenly winced. "Owwww!" he let Clarke drop to the floor as he shook his hand… "She bit me!" this time Clarke heard the laughter on the other end as Alex murmured that he'd be right back and glared at Clarke as he set the phone down carefully next to the receiver. "Its bleeding."

"Good."

"I'm going to wash it… if I don't I might get rabies."

"Or you might catch a good dose of common sense you pig." she muttered as he walked into the bathroom.

Without a second thought she snatched up the phone and cleared her throat. "So you're the mother of the lunatic."

"Yes, hello Clarke, please call me Eve." the British accent on the other side was deeper than Alex's, but the smooth voice was the same sans several octaves.

"And I am to understand that the creatures that were walking around my museum tonight are mummys brought back to life?"

"Yes my dear."

"And now your son is on a mission to send them back to the dead?"

"You pick up on these issues very much like his father does I suspect." Evelyn commented, "one step at a time then." Clarke heard a sigh through the phone, then a throat clearing cough behind her. The phone was snatched from her hand before Evelyn could say more.

"Mom, just let the Medji know about Mali, and find out if there will be any more help or if I'll have to do this alone? I really just need to know." Alex sounded wiped. Evelyn nodded, though he couldn't see her and promised to do all she could. "Did you clean the bite well?"

"Yes mother, very well."

"Ok then. But do let the girl in on the whole story. You were eight when you first learned of Imotep, and all the possibilities. You've done remarkable things since then. She needs to understand that this isn't a joke, it isn't a game, and it is the fate of the world your dealing with. By the time you're done I suppose I'll have some news for you."

"Thanks mum." He gave her Clarke's phone number and hung up. Clarke had disappeared into the kitchen., so Alex sat on the couch and closed his eyes as he leaned wearily into the cushions.

"Who is Imotep?" Clarke asked as she sat next to Alex and picked up his hand to check the bandage he'd slapped on. He jerked his hand away and glared.

"What?"

"I remembered I have a phone in my kitchen. Whose Imotep? What's possible?" she leaned forward, "Tell me now about the fate of the world."

* * *

So i'm sorry its taking so long to update. i just went on a five day vacation to Vegas with my folks, and now i'm packing to move at the end of the month. so just don't get angry about updates until august ok?

Clarke is... very reluctant to believe in supernatural occurences... but she'll get there eventually.


	6. jokes and betrayals

sorry about the updates, i've been distracted by Riddick... which is fun but i'm going to wrap it up soon. Thought i'd start on this again. enjoy this short update, look forward to more!

* * *

"Imotep was a priest of Seti the third. He had an affair with his wife and then she killed the king. The kings guards killed Anaksunamun, and then Imotep tried to resurrect her. He failed because he was interrupted then mummified alive."

"That had to hurt." Clarke sat on the couch, her hands folded on her knees, and tilted her head. "Wasn't that supposed to be the ultimate curse?"

"Yes. And if he was brought back to life he'd bring with him all the plagues of Egypt."

"Brought back to life, like your little friends at the museum… you know, I have to ask, how'd you get the costumes set up so that arms and heads would fly off? When is Mali going to come back?"

"Mali is dead Clarke. Whether you want to believe this or not, this is real."

"And what does Imotep have to do with it again?"

"My mother brought him back to life."

"Real smart."

"Apparently, from my fathers descriptions of her, you're a lot like her. She used to think that if you could see it and touch it then it was real."

"I take back my other comment, she sounds perfectly reasonable." She sneered.

"Then she read from the book of the dead, brought back a mummy, and almost became the vessel for the soul of Anaksunamun." Alex grinned as her smug smile disappeared.

"You will say anything!"

"I'm telling you the truth. Then, after a lot of running around and trying to believe the whole incident wasn't real; that this mummy wasn't really there, she and my father found a way to bury him again. And that's the truth Clarke."

"Sounds romantic."

"Well, my mom did save my dad from hanging in an Arab prison." Alex shrugged, "I guess she saw something in him that needed her." He looked back at the phone and shrugged.

"Sounds lovely. Hanging you say? Wonder if they'd still go for that around here." She trailed off as he glared at her.

"Imotep was uncovered again. And my mother started to have visions of a past life."

"A past life? Alex, just stop-"

"I spent a week with a soul sucking bracelet on my wrist, on this stupid quest so Imotep could kill the Scorpion King…"

"Pure myth!"

"And I'm not getting through to you at all!" Alex threw up his hands and stalked into the kitchen. "You don't have any brandy!" he growled.

"Just GET OUT!" Clarke screamed at the top her lungs. She'd had enough. Her father had just died and he thought it was funny to play games with her! She'd show him! She marched into the kitchen, grabbed his sleeve and started dragging him to the door.

He let her, he was pissed himself. She didn't believe a single word he'd said, even after that battle in her office, and Mali being broken against the stone wall… hadn't she heard the crackling of his bones? People don't sound like that when they just joke around!

Clarke grabbed the handle, flung the door open and shoved Alex into the hall… right into the arms of Inspector O'Malley.

* * *

Meanwhile…

The light was red, and pulsing. Mali could only watch as the jeweled pendant, one that both Alex and Clarke hadn't noticed in their fight for the book, was lifted and hung over the neck of the decayed and frail-looking corpse. He smiled as the mummy looked over at him and started walking forward. It kneeled next to Mali and asked in the ancient tongue.

"_What has happened? Who brought me back?"_

"_It was I master. You are once more amongst the living."_ Mali tried to laugh, but a few of his ribs had penetrated his lungs, he only spewed up red bubbles.

"_Then I thank you. Now where are my jars?"_


	7. questions and guns

"Ummm, you know, if someone has to fall into my arms, I would prefer it to be her." O'Malley looked down at Alex with a smirk. The young man lay sprawled in the hallway, where he'd landed after O'Malley dropped him.

"Thanks for breaking my fall." Alex muttered dryly.

"Don't mention it." O'Malley grinned and opened a new page on his note book. He licked the end of his pencil and made a little notation.

"Is there anything I can help you with Detective?" Clarke pushed her hair behind her head and kicked Alex's feet out of her doorway and into the hall.

"Just a few questions." He held out a hand to help Alex up, and was amused, rather than insulted, when Alex refused it.

"She doesn't want to answer a few questions, she wants to fight, and you know what?" Alex flung out his hands, "you're welcome to her!" He started down the hallway and down the stairs. Clarke disappeared for a moment into the apartment and came back holding a large duffel bag. Alex stopped turned around and stalked to the door. She shoved the bag into his chest, causing Alex to whuff out a little breath and a little growl.

"Be a stranger, don't come around." Clarke spat angrily and turned to the Detective with a smile as a generous hostess. "Detective O'Malley, would you care for some tea?"

* * *

"Would you care for some tea…" Alex imitated Clarke in a childish and somewhat therapeutical manner. "My ass." He stuck out his tongue at her window and was amused when the shade was drawn. Someone had seen it and let their feathers get ruffled. He hung the duffel over his shoulder and started walking to the museum.

* * *

"Now, what can I do for you?" She handed him a mug and took a sip from one herself. She didn't taste it, she was so angry. She took the moment to look out the window, and shut the blind when she noticed Alex still standing on the sidewalk outside. He stuck his tongue out. "Child."

"Well, I went by the museum today, seemed someone had a rather explosive party." He took note as her shoulders tensed and she turned her wide, innocent eyes on him.

"Really, well its not unusual for students to gather and mess up the place. I'll let you know if we will press charges when I catch those responsible. Was anything broken?"

"Cut the bull." O'Malley was willing to let her hang herself, but he'd been a bit unnerved by the mess he'd walked in on. There were ancient bones strewn across the hallways, bits of artifacts had fallen from columns and the walls, left there like abandoned children. There was a fresh blood trail coming from the hallway directly outside the mummy exhibit and she had a fresh blood spot on her shoe. He could only deal with fools for so long before they started to annoy him, and he was on one of his last ropes. "Your car was seen pealing out of there tonight. What went down?"

* * *

Alex hitched a ride over. It took him less time than he thought to go through the carnage of the museum and to come to the conclusion that whatever had been there, revived mummy or otherwise, was no longer in residence. Neither was Mali.

* * *

"Alex was playing a rather elaborate hoax on me. And trust me, once I total the damage I will be pressing charges."

"Does that include a murder charge?" He looked up quickly to watch her face pale in shock.

"Murder?" her voice hitched.

"There was a rather large blood stain."

"No body?" Clarke put her hand on her chest and was angry all over again. "Mali, Alex claimed he is a Medji, a holy warrior, and his faked death was part of the prank. I'm sure the blood you saw was probably ketchup."

"Ma'am, this was blood. I'm a homicide detective, we know these things."

* * *

Alex followed the blood trail, down through the Egypt exhibit, the Knights of the Round Table exhibit and down the hallway to what he knew had to be the restoration rooms. He knew what he would see, having heard his father describe it many times, but the four guards in the middle of the room did not remind him of his father's tales, but of the hotdog he'd had for lunch, and the fierce desire to keep it down.

There, in the middle of the room, it was as if they'd been twisted and left to dry in the sun. One had no eyes, another's mouth gaped open with no tongue. Their skin was gray and ashy. He didn't touch them, he was afraid they'd dissolve.

"This is bad." Somewhere out there was a fully regenerated Mummy corpse. And Alex had no idea what he wanted.

* * *

"I have forensics going in to check it out, and the museum is to be closed for the duration. I have talked to the Curator and he is upset enough to offer full access to the museum and all files related to it. I would suggest you not leave town for a few days, and if you can, let me know where Alex O'Connell is staying."

* * *

At the moment Alex O'Connell was staring into the face of a dead man. Mali looked better than he'd last seen the man.

"What did you do?"

"I awakened my master." Mali held a wicked curved sword in both hands; Alex recognized it from Clarke's wall. Damn the girl had good weapons. Alex had gone back to the Egypt room to try and identify which mummy his walking corpse could be.

"That was incredibly stupid of you." He looked up from a book he'd been skimming and slowly slid his hand toward his jacket pocket.

"Ah- no moving, you think I don't know about you and your toy guns?" Mali jabbed the sword at Alex's hand. He moved it away and grabbed the blade from the top dull side. Yanking it aside the sword clanged on the tile floor. Mali smirked and pulled a gun from the waistband against his back. "To bad you didn't know about mine."


	8. shots fired

i know, and i 'm sorry about the lack of updatage, the only explaination is that i just didn't feel like it. but seeing as how it turned into not feeling like doing anything (including going to class) i have to admit i had a little problem. hopefully its resolved now. its short, but i thought you'd enjoy it. -skabs

* * *

"My Master has set a powerful reward on me, for awakening him, for bringing him flesh and life." Mali sneered, "stupid Englishman, I am now more powerful than you could ever dream."

"You are not." Alex smirked back, "you're a servant, and you always will be."

The smile left Mali's face as his finger tightened on the trigger. Alex gasped as the shot rang out and the tiny piece of metal shot through his left shoulder.

"Crap!" he swore as his hand shot to the wound; hot blood squirt between his fingers as he panted with a clenched jaw. "So, what is your mummy after then?" he asked as his blood dripped onto the cold marble floor. Mali laughed then.

"You British, always so brave, what is this called then? A stiff-upper lip?"

"Its called, I'm preventing myself from jumping on you and smashing your head against the wall." Alex panted, "But that doesn't mean the question is less relevant."

* * *

Clarke rounded the corner just as the shot echoed through the corridors. She'd been walking slowly, glaring at each mummy case as it was obvious each was appallingly empty. She didn't notice the lack of guards until she heard the gun, and the muffled cry of pain. Then she frantically looked around. There where no guards. Berating herself she followed the voices, not surprised to see both the men, she was about to enter the room and declare their stupid game ended once and for all, when she saw the blood dripping from Alex's arm.

That gave her pause. If it was a game, why would Alex really be hurt? And why would Mali be standing there, holding a gun on his friend if there were no spectators to witness their joke?

Clarke backed away, strode down the corridor quickly, and watched the scene unfold from the door that stood gapingly open behind Mali.

* * *

"My Master came from The Valley of the Kings!"

"As did a million other mummy's currently on display in the British Museum, you ninny," Alex rolled his eyes, not certain if he was supposed to be impressed.

"But my Master was not buried with ushebti to aid him in the afterlife. No, mine was buried with cats, to keep guard, to keep him where he lay." Mali scoffed, "then the stupid Englisi had to remove him, and begin his curse anew." He waved his gun as if making a point. "So it is your own fault it got this far."

"Just tell me who the hell it is already, and shoot me if that is your intention. You are a very boring fellow Mali." Alex didn't like that the blood loss was beginning to make him a bit light headed. He needed to figure a way past Mali's itchy trigger finger.

"My Master is Ba'al."

Clarke rolled her eyes. Ba'al, really; the god of the Egyptian underworld had to have better stuff to do than terrorize New Jersey.

"Ba'al? The god Ba'al?" Alex tried, but he couldn't keep a straight face.

"The high priest of the temple commonly took the gods name." Mali chided, reminding Alex of something he thought Alex would have known.

"And this guy has come back to wreck vengeance in the name of his god?"

"He will take his revenge."

"On whom?" Alex asked, "The people who killed him are all dead now!"

"But the ones who stripped him from his grave and those descendants of his murderers are all fair game. As is the rest of the world. He will start where he left off all those millennia ago."

"Oh, yeah? And what is it he is supposed to do?" Alex had to ask, though he was pretty sure of the answer. And, yep, the henchman was gearing up toward a pronouncement. Mali took a deep breath and was about to answer, when a loud shriek from a female throat echoed from behind the door.


	9. a chance to breath, maybe

Alex let his eyes roll from Mali's face and watched as Clarke backed into the room, her spine stiff, movement's jerky. Walking in after her was a tall man, who didn't look up from her face as his hand reached out to touch. Clarke flinched away, his hand was covered in blood.

"HANDS OFF you undead bastard!" Alex shouted as the man kept reaching. Mali watched as his master grabbed Clarkes hair and yanked her closer. A grin spread on his thin lips, he glared at Alex and adjusted his grip on the pistol.

"It looks like he's found his first sacrifice." But he turned slightly to keep an eye on the others, taking his full attention from Alex.

Clarke didn't really know why she was so afraid. He looked like a normal man, about six feet with shiny black hair pulled back into a long, sleek ponytail. His skin was pale under a gold complexion, and his eyes stared into hers like dark black pools of ink. But it was the horrible malice that shone in those eyes. Something told her that he hated her just because she existed. His bloody hand was clenched tightly in her hair, he jerked her forward when all she wanted to do was turn and run. He muttered something and tugged on her hair, bringing her closer.

His shoulder hurt like hell, throbbing to the beating of his heart, but he could still act. As soon as Mali's gaze left him, he shoved himself forward, grabbing Mali's gun hand and flipping the shorter man over his good shoulder. He kicked at Mali's chin and knocked the man out. Running hell bent for leather he crossed the room, shoved the monster, grabbed Clarke's arm and kept running. Clarke cursed as a chunk of her hair was pulled from her scalp.

"Keep running!" Alex screamed as Ba'al let out a scream that echoed in the cold hallways.

"Don't you have a gun in your pocket or something?" Clarke panted as she ran along side him.

"No! It's in my duffel bag okay?" Turning a corner he let out a cry of relief. There was his duffel bag, right where he left it. He almost skidded the five feet across to kneel at it and rip open the zipper. Just as the mummy appeared at the turn Alex lifted his one of his six shooters and emptied the round. Ba'al dropped out of sight; Alex got to his feet, pulled his duffel over his head and turned toward the exit. "Run." He told Clarke

"But you got him!" She protested.

"No, I only delayed him. Trust me, RUN!"

They made it all the way back to the car before Alex groaned and clutched at his shoulder. He was trying to open the door and pulled it the wrong way. Clarke opened the door for him and shoved him in, sliding over the card hood to get to the drivers side. Alex just moaned and shook his head when she suggested a hospital.

"You know what tough guy, you don't get a choice. You've lost a lot of blood and that's something my first aide class didn't cover!" Gritting her teeth she turned onto the highway and headed for the nearest ER.

Alex woke to the sound of Clarke arguing with a police officer. He sighed when he realized that she had actually taken him to a hospital. He preferred to avoid them when he had bullet wounds, mostly because of conversations like the one Clarke was obviously having.

"I don't care if you don't believe a mummy was just brought back to life and his minion shot my friend! All you have to do in your little report is write down some stupid excuse like accidental firing and LEAVE!" She threw her hands into the air and scoffed at the young officer.

"Ma'am I can't leave until he wakes up and tells me what happened. I have to know if he wants to press charges." He was exceedingly polite. He tipped his hat and went back to standing at the door like a statue.

"And to do that you won't let me in to check on him?" she tipped her head, Alex could see from the cracked open door that she was pissed.

"You are not a member of his immediate family ma'am. I am not allowed to let anyone through who could be connected with the shooting…"

"That's okay officer… she didn't shoot me." Alex moaned out as Clarke was about to blow her top. He still felt a little dizzy from the vicodin they'd given him. He hated taking anything other than an Advil. Hospital prescriptions were always harsh on his system.

Clarke didn't even wait for the officer to approve, she just shoved him aside and ran into the room.

"Alex! You're alive!" She jumped up onto the bed, wrapped her arms around his stomach and leaned her head against his right shoulder.

"Sir?" The officer stood by the bed, glaring at Clarke, but holding his pen ready.

"I was shot by a man whose name is Mali, or at least that was the name he gave me. I have just come from London to help Miss. Clarke and her professor with the Egyptian studies exhibit and I was at the Museum to look over the artifacts. Mali was there and attempting to steal some items, we had a minor disagreement, in which time he shot me. Miss. Clarke here came just in time to get me away, and that is what happened." The officer nodded, happy to have something in his report besides walking dead men and a hysterical woman.

"And what does Mali look like?"

"Like an ass- ." the rest was lost as Alex started coughing.

"Like a what?"

"Sorry, Egyptian. 5'10", coppery skin, black wavy hair, black eyes."

"Thank you, if you need anything I'll be right outside." The cop hadn't been unobservant, he'd seen Clarke's hand playing with the hem of the hospital gown they'd put Alex in, and the slight twitching of Alex's lips when her fingers brushed the skin of his thigh.

"You keep doing that I'm going to wonder why." Alex muttered into her hair as soon as the officer left. Somewhat to his disappointment she immediately moved her hand up to his face, but just left her palm on his cheek for a long moment before looking him in the eye.

"You almost died in my car." She stated, and then shivered.

"I'm sorry…" it was all he could think of to say, the drugs still held him a bit loopy.

"You do that again and I'll let you." She threatened, then before he could say anything she shifted until her lips were pressed firmly against his.

Alex's entire world began to spin wildly out of control, and he knew it wasn't because of the drugs. His right arm, around her waist, tightened until her body was plastered to the side of his, one of her legs thrown carelessly over his thighs. Forgetting himself he tried to move his leg arm to capture her, hold her, keep her.

Cursing horribly he leaned away and collapsed on the bed, panting, sweating from the pain that lashed out all over his left side.

"Sorry… sorry…" Clarke panted, trying to catch her breath but for different reasons. She had been a hair away from lying on top of him and holding on for dear life. When he jerked away every reason why she shouldn't had came flying back into her mind.

"Mmmm… why do bullet wounds always hurt more after treatment?" Alex groaned and tried to lay still.

"You know, I ask myself that same question occasionally. You get shot a lot Mr. O'Connell?" He was standing in the doorway, good old dependable O'Malley.

Ok, sorry about the , um, for some reason FF will not let me edit anything- including my profile! Its irritating.


	10. threats

sorry this took so long, but i was writing myself into a corner, and it took a while to sort it all out. enjoy!

* * *

Alex raised an eyebrow. That searing pain had done a lot to clear his mind of the fuzziness, and he knew instinctively that answering the Detectives question truthfully would probably start a new round of questions that he didn't want to answer.

"A couple of times, by accident, of course."

"Can I ask what you were doing at the museum Ma'am? I did tell you that the area had been closed off until the investigating team had finished their report." There was no doubt in Alex's mind, the detective was furious.

"What happened?" Alex asked, "What happened to the team? There was no one around when I got there."

"Yes, the security guards where gone." Clarke remembered, "I just thought that you'd sent them away, but that means there should have been cops there, right?"

"I'm asking the questions here, and I want to know what you meant Miss. Parkesburg, when you told my officer that there were mummies running around." He licked the tip of his pencil and set in on his paper pad.

"I was hysterical." She leaned her head back on Alex's good shoulder and closed her eyes, "I was just trying to get him to let me see Alex." She shrugged, "I would have told him the hospital was on fire if I thought he'd believe it."

Alex had to hand it to the girl, she knew how to lie, but he saw the stone expression on the detectives face and knew it well. It was the same look he'd seen on his father's face so many years ago when his mother had been kidnapped. This man was deadly serious.

"The investigating team is dead." Alex stated and O'Malley brought his eyes up to meet the young Brit's.

"Yes."

Clarke gasped and sat up, her hand to her heart. "I'm so sorry."

"You're not getting around me with any more of this bullshit. You both know something you're not telling me. I need all the information I can get to put away whoever did…" he frowned and looked down at his notepad.

"The guards down in the lab where enough for the mummy to regenerate, I don't know how the others died, if you give me some more detail I might be able to piece together what Ba'al is doing." Alex stared straight up at the ceiling and tried to fight past the last vestige of drugs in his head.

"Alex!" Clarke turned around and frowned, "now is not the time, those men where his friends!"

"Clarke, I need to know what's going on or it'll never stop. He's angry about something, I need to research; I need to know why."

"Their hearts were ripped from their chests." O'Malley stood and leaned over the bed so his face was directly in Alex's line of sight. "I know of no weapon that could do this, and no man is strong enough to go completely through bone and rip the tissue from a mans body. I know you didn't do it. So tell me who did and I'll get them."

"I can't tell you anything."

"Bull."

"I can't tell you anything that will make you go on your own. You'll only get yourself killed and I'll have to break in a new detective on this case, who might not like me as much as you do. So you'll just have to wait until I get the information I need, I'll fill you in and we'll hunt down the bastard together."

"Alex, you've just been shot." Clarke protested.

"The only reason I'm still in this bed is because they drugged me too much." Alex groaned as he felt his eyelids start to feel leaden. "Make sure they'll let me out in the morning, would you sweetheart?" he yawned, closed his eyes and promptly fell asleep.

"If he wasn't passed out I'd hit him for that." Clarke muttered and looked up at the detective. The man looked older than he had just a couple hours ago. His frown was deep, the worry in his eyes evident. The pain that had blossomed when he spoke of his team had opened that well of misery in Clarke's own chest. She still felt like crying every time she thought of the professor. So she straightened her shoulders and got off the bed, taking the detectives arm in her own she nudged him into the hall, closing the door behind her.

"Come on Detective," she said after smacking Alex's chest and getting no response, "I'll tell you what I know over a cup of coffee."

* * *

With everything that had happened in the past few days O'Malley was probably more receptive to the odd explanation than he realized. He didn't interrupt and was patient with Clarke when she had to pause and collect herself several times during the couple of hours they sat in the hard plastic chairs in the waiting room.

"So what you're telling me is that there is a mummy walking around and killing people? Like in that Boris Karloff movie?"

"I guess…never saw it myself."

"You major in Egyptology and you never saw the movie?"

"You make it sound like a skipped a class." She protested mildly.

"You may just as well have."

"Yeah well now we've got the real thing, and I haven't the foggiest idea of what to do."

"At the moment, I'd say we wait for your boyfriend to wake up," he ignored her indignant protest, finding it telling that she was more enthusiastic protesting that than the other, and continued, "and we'll figure out something I'm sure."

* * *

Once again Alex groaned in his sleep, no one heard it, but in his dream he was screaming bloody murder. The bald head gleamed in the setting sun; the silver knife that was being removed from his mother's stomach was dripping red, and the scream that echoed his own belonged to his father.

"_Evie! No!"_

Alex jerked up, and gasped as his shoulder burned, but the pain was no longer dulled, meaning that tears almost burst from his eyes, closing them as his head spun in a sickly circle.

"Bad dream?" a deep voice hissed. He snapped opened his eyes and began to call out when a large hand clapped over his mouth. His eyes were dark, as Clarke had witnessed earlier, darker than black and almost as infinite as the night sky. Alex forced himself to calm, taking deep breaths through his nose.

"That's better; you have no reason to panic. I'm not going to kill you." Ba'al removed his hand slowly, then altogether when he knew that his captive wasn't going to call for help.

"What do you want?" Alex whispered.

"I'm sure, but I don't know." He smiled charmingly. Or it would have been charming if Alex hadn't seen that grin before on the lips of a woman who had killed his mother in front of his eyes.

"You'll have to explain that one."

"Just a few facts, some names, and I'll leave you at peace young one."

"Names… whose?"

"Who killed me...Who disturbed me?" he sat on the edge of the bed, in the same place Clarke had perched earlier. "Tell me and I won't be forced to hurt someone you care about." He leaned over and placed his hands on either side of Alex's hips, face a few inches from his own.

"I don't know." Alex replied truthfully. As if weighing his words, Ba'al titled his head and sighed.

"But you can find out, much quicker than I could, even my poor servant has not the information you can command. I will return." He stood and placed his hand on Alex's cheek, where Clarke had placed hers. "You will help me, or I will kill her… and anyone else you could claim to care about." Once again that sickening flash of panic and utter loss echoed through his head.

"_Evie! No!"_

He clasped his eyes tight at the thought. And when he opened them again, he was alone.


End file.
